Moreover, when she came back, she was holding a gleaming golden sword.
The dazzling oversized blue sapphire on the hilt sparkled brilliantly under the lights.
Some of those who had come to watch the spectacle were stunned.
Those who had pulled certain little tricks were especially grim-faced.
Sister Wu was anxiously pacing back and forth. When she saw Su Qiao, she finally let out a huge sigh of relief and hurried over.
Her gaze was immediately drawn to the sword in Su Qiao's hand.
"Y-you... where did you get that?"
"I borrowed it from a friend." Su Qiao lied without batting an eye.
"Although it's gold, it suits your outfit better than that black sword did. It complements the golden patterns on your chest."
Su Qiao's outfit today was mainly black, accented with golden patterns. The upper half was relatively sharp and structured, while the lower half was flowing and elegant. It was rich in traditional Chinese elements, with some courtly touches added as well—classically graceful and imposing, yet still carefree.
Holding the golden sword in one hand was like adding the finishing touch to a painting, giving her an extra air of dominance.
Sister Wu gritted her teeth. "Just go out like this! As for the designer, we'll deal with that later."
"It's almost your turn."
"Don't be nervous. Just do it the way you usually do."
Su Qiao gave a slight nod, tightened her grip on the sword, and walked to the side of the curtain. With her eyes slightly closed, she silently calculated the rhythm of the drumbeats.
At the moment before she went onstage, she opened her eyes. A flash of fierceness crossed them, and then she swept out her broad sleeve and walked out calmly.
As Su Qiao stepped forward one pace at a time